Dreaming Reality
by Endles
Summary: Dreams, Ciel decides, are the worst. Sebastian/Ciel


**Dreaming Reality**

-x-

Dreams, Ciel decides, are the worst.

-x-

The beginning is a mess. He is standing on a secluded, minuscule railway station, with no idea where to go. The railway station, he thinks, is abandoned. Only one train stops by every few months, and other than that the place is left dead. Absent-mindedly he realizes that he doesn't even know in which town the station is, or how he really got there. But he must've gotten there somehow, and surely doing so he must've passed through the town. But everything is so damn foggy and clouded up and his memories are spiralling in a furious swirl and he doesn't have the slightest clue what's happening.

Then- a sound.

The rusted bell above him (he hadn't even noticed it there) chimes, two times loud and clear. He isn't entirely sure, but he thinks he's heard somewhere that the bell is used to signal the arrival of trains. Then again, why else would it be there? Expectedly he looks left and follows the rails with his eyes. He's almost certain that he sees something small and black that's moving, coming closer. The wind blows into his face, harsh, and he has to take a step back to not topple over. When did it start blowing so strong?

Now he also notices the dark clouds on the sky, so much for a nice calm weather. Just when the train is finally so close that he can hear the sound of the engine and smell the smoke, the first droplets fall on his nose and his shoulder. He just stands there, feeling torn apart. There seems to be something so off in the situation- on the other hand the rain feels just so nice, refreshing maybe even… purifying, somehow. That thought makes him burrow his frowns, why does he need to be purified? He tries to remember, tries really hard, and manages to grasp faint memories of hands on him and wicked smiles.

A violent shudder goes through his body, and suddenly he feels nauseous.

"_No,"_ he thinks, _"I don't want this."_

But the pounding is relentless. He feels like crying now. And though he knows his tears will mix with the raindrops, making it impossible to see he's weeping, he cannot allow himself that weakness. The rain cannot fool him, even if it fools others. He just wants someone, anyone to stop it, to make the rain go away.

In the corner of his eyes he sees a shadow, as black as a raven. It only stands there, and he can't recognize its shape, but he thinks it somewhat resembles a human. As the train pulls to a stop in front of him, he turns to look at the shadow, but finds it gone. It has vanished, but it has left a strange feeling of comfort inside him.

So he turns back to the train and sees the doors open. She is there, Lizzie. Little Elizabeth Middleford.

"Ciel! Cieel!" she is calling at him, but he finds himself unable to move. An overwhelming sense of nostalgia fills him; the girl is just like he remembers her. Small and cute and full of bright smiles. He doesn't consider that she should have grown (how long has it been since the last time he saw her?) but instead runs to her, having regained his ability to do so.

The girl giggles and jumps into his arms from the train, ignoring the steps. He catches her easily, _too _easily but he doesn't care. He spins her around once, twice, not knowing really why. The girl glows with joy and health and all good things that there are in the world, and he feels something akin to happiness brush his mind. It just fleeting, just a memory, for he hasn't felt so in a long time.

"We are going on a trip!" she proclaims enthusiastically. Only then he sees Auntie Angelina walk into view from the train. Still holding the small girl in his arms he looks up the woman, all wide eyes and wonder. Since when did she become so majestic? And when did she start wearing white?

Truly, the woman is wearing a light summer dress, more like a night gown than anything else, and it's the purest white he's ever seen. She smiles, slightly sad, slightly bitter, but says nothing.

"Let's go already!" Elizabeth cries impatiently, and Ciel has nothing to say against it. Whatever he was standing on the station for, he now has more important things to do.

-x-

"Why are we here?" he asks but no one heeds his question. Auntie Angelina is still silent, brooding behind him and Lizzie, who is dragging him along by the hand and giggling.

They are walking in a grey town, which streets are like a maze. He wonders how anyone could build it like that, much less live there. Otherwise too, the place is very peculiar. The lights and shadows are off, and somehow the proportions are twisted, distorted. Actually, the same amnesia that bothered him on the railway platform has returned- he cannot tell how they got there. He decides that in this realm or dimension or whatever, things just happen that way. He doesn't want to bother himself with it, he'll figure it out sometime if he really needs to.

They stop in the middle of a cross-road, and suddenly he is so aware of the emptiness around him that he could scream. There are no people in the whole town, not at all. He hasn't seen a single soul, not even a single sign of life while they've been walking on the narrow streets. There aren't any sounds, expect the noise their shoes make as they walk on the stoned ground and the rustling of their clothes. And even those sounds are limited to him and Elizabeth only, Auntie Angelina is barefooted and her dress is so light, that there is no sound.

She is so quiet she could as well be dead.

He doesn't think about that, and instead pushes the thought far away to the back of his mind. He doesn't want to think about walking around with dead relatives, and besides, if she were dead she couldn't be there. A nagging voice somewhere whispers: _"don't be too sure."_

"Nee, Ciel?" Lizzie asks, tugging his hand down a little, "Where do you want to go?"

He looks at her and then around to see all the directions, all the routes he could pick. He feels slightly unsure, and it bothers him. What was it again that he had to choose? Not the direction, but something else. Something a lot bigger, like-

"_I HATE YOU!"_

"_GO AWAY!"_

"_WHAT ARE YOU-"_

Once again a wave of nausea washes through him and he has to throw his hand to cover his mouth. A cold sweat is now covering his body, his mind repeating continuously _"no, no, no, not that, not that."_

And then, just like the last time, he sees the shadow. On the street to the right is an inn, and there, in front of it stands the… thing. Warm fills the bottom of his stomach, and makes him feel comforted, but edgy at the same time. It is a squirming feeling, nice but somehow so embarrassing. The shadow looks up, if such thing could be said about it, and walks inside the inn.

Immediately, he knows he wants to go there. Right there.

"This way," he points to Lizzie and the small girl pouts, looking a tad bit disappointed.

"But Ciel, I wanted to go there" she complains, and Auntie Angelina does a small action, proving she's alive, at least: she nods.

He stares at them. Should he give up? "In disagreements, people should always look for compromises", he remembers someone telling him. If he were the gentleman he was always taught to be he should've instantly given up his own desire and done as the ladies wished. But was it really worth it? Worth giving up- No, he decides. He can't obey them, he needs this. He _needs_ to follow the shadow, even if he'd never find it.

"I'm sorry Lizzie," he says not really apologetic at all, "You asked me to pick, wouldn't it be fair to listen now?"

Auntie Angelina looks slightly betrayed, but nods silently. Then she takes the small girls hand and she removes her other hand from his. Lizzie's smile is sad and there are tears prickling at the corner of her eyes. Together the two women start to walk away, into the opposite direction. Ciel stands immobilized. He doesn't know whether he should just turn away or shout and run after them. But all decisions are made for him, because he just cannot move until he sees them disappear from his sight completely.

He would sigh, but he realizes that he hasn't even been breathing for the whole time. Somehow, it doesn't even surprise him that much. He just brushes it off and starts walking himself.

-x-

In the inn, there are lots of people he doesn't know, but dimly recognizes as some people he probably has seen, sometime somewhere. They quickly pull him into a bubbly happy conversation, though he doesn't really partake in it. He only listens to them laugh and shout and bicker and then laugh again, and wonders why he can't understand anything. Their faces, though they are right in front of him, are unrecognisable like if he'd see them through a veil, and their voices… though he knows they are speaking English, just like him, he cannot comprehend the language.

When night falls, and he feels it more than sees, he lays sleepless in his dirty bed, under his dirty sheet, and listens to their snoring. And even that sounds unfamiliar.

The next morning they find a corpse in one of the beds and shock is visible on all their faces. Only the innkeeper is silent, like the small, wrinkled old woman had known something. He knows he should, but he doesn't ask anything. They leave, and he gets the feeling it'll be the last time he'll be able to leave a scene like that so easily.

-x-

He is travelling now, alongside these people he doesn't really know, but then again does. And he _realizes _they are travelling, realizes they are passing landscapes after landscapes, but once they pull to a stop he cannot even tell by what they've made their way.

But he does, in fact, know where they are.

It's London. Wherever he looks he sees familiar buildings, only the place he's standing is unfamiliar. It's a square shaped market place, with lots and lots of shopping stalls and lots and lots of bustling people. The far end of the market seems to reach the banks of Thames, as he can see a ship sail past. The river itself is hidden from the view because of all the people.

The group he's been going along with splits up. Everyone leaves into different directions, probably off exploring the area. He is left with a small woman and a tall man, but he cannot say more of about their looks. He doesn't see. The three of them start walking aimlessly, going from stall to stall… not really having anything particular to search for.

He swears he sees the black shadow, but in all truth he doesn't. He feels its presence more than anything, the fire again lighting inside him. He walks off to where he thinks he saw it, but instead finds himself at a candy stall. And just then he gets the not-ignorable urge to buy candies.

Yellow candies.

But all he can see is green and brown and bluish black, even some red, but not yellow. He tries to find them, surely there must be, lemon drops at least, but no avail. He feels desperate, he feels crushed, but then he feels the shadow watching him again. That calms him down, it's alright. He doesn't need those after all.

The tall man without a face taps his shoulder. He doesn't hear the words, he only hears strange noise, but somehow he understands. They are leaving. They are leaving by _train_.

And he happily thinks they will be travelling nicely, comfortably, sophisticatedly. But, no, they're travelling as rabbits. As known rabbits, at least, because apparently the tall man knows someone in the train, but that doesn't make it any more likeable. They don't have to worry about getting caught, but the wooden floor is hard and it's not nice to be the only one awake. The sound of the train's engine can be heard even there in the last wagon, and the chugging isn't exactly calming to him, though people say it is.

So he lies awake, watching the ceiling, listening to the tweaks and screeches around him. He can't even see the passing sceneries because there are no windows in the luggage wagon. He still doesn't feel scared in the dark, no, instead he feels like home. It reminds him of the shadow, and as he thinks about that, the warm- no, hot (_too_ hot) feeling fills him, and he's sure he blushes. In that unstable state of mind he falls into feverish sleep, and doesn't dream.

-x-

When he wakes up, his eyes snap open straight away.

There is another pair staring straight into his own, not five inches away.

And he knows whom those liquefied, ruby orbs belong to.

"You are the shadow," he says flatly. His expression doesn't alter, but inside he's boiling hot, screaming, panicking, and running in circles. He's only dimly aware of the thumb that is stroking his cheek, where there is a freshly painted stripe. It's white, and he knows it somehow, though he can't see it nor has he been awake when it was painted.

"I am," it- no, _he_ says, the words smooth like satin.

"Are you a ghost?"

He laughs; the sound is like a thousand chimes, or the song of a nightingale, so beautiful.

"No," the word is a purr, and the man (not a ghost, but certainly not human) leans forward, to whisper into his ear, "You want know my name? Then try calling it."

His breath is so hot against his ear and neck. He knows that men are sensitive there, but he is so sure he isn't supposed to be feeling so- out of breath. Light-headed. _Wonderful_.

"_Name?"_ he thinks, trying to remember. But it's so hard when your brain and insides have turned into hot-mush. He wants something, but doesn't know really what. He tries to find that too, what he's really looking for. The nauseous feeling is back again, but it's soon surpassed by the warmth, and finally he can see it clearly.

"_Yes,"_ he thinks, a single tear falling from his eye.

Someone to touch.

Someone to feel.

Someone who's there.

Someone to _save_ him, to take him away, rescue him from the light.

_Anyone._

The hot breath is now against his cheek as the demon, because that's what he is, he knows now, kisses the tear away. A million things explode inside him as he feels the cool lips on his skin, though it's a short moment only, so short, _too_ short.

This is exactly what he's been craving for, this man, this demon, who is like an angel to him. He has come to take him away from this hell, away from the light, into darkness. His world is upside down and he now sees it so clearly it's painful, but he doesn't care.

Even on that short moment when he's being given the last chance to retreat, he does not.

"What is Hell for everyone else…" he says, somehow managing not to breath hard even though he must be blushing like mad, "let it be Heaven for me."

And the devil smiles, so sultry, so gorgeous, that it pierces his heart and he gasps.

"Are you sure?"

He can't think straight, but he's frustrated that the demon even asks. But then again, he must be held back by some invisible strings, laws, which he cannot see. And he moans out _"Just do it!"_

He's so hot that he's sure he'll melt. He doesn't know of anything else in the world, but the demon and this unbearable feeling.

Then there are those lips against his own and, _yes finally_, this is what he needs. This contract sealed with a kiss, and with his blood that spills, when the demon bites his lips and drinks the crimson. The pressure is so much, the tension building all the time- and suddenly he cannot bear it any more. Everything disappears.

He wakes up with a gasp:

"_Sebastian!"_

-x-

"I saw you," he says, the blood from the small wound in his mouth slithering down his jaw.

"_Yes," the_ demon hisses, low and dangerous, "I saw you too."

And as the shadow of his dreams scoops him up, and when he can feel that hot, teasing breath tickling at his neck, he cannot help, but to shiver.

He's true, he's real.

And he wouldn't have him any other way.

-x-

I- I died.

This fic's explanation would probably be longer than the fic itself, so I'll just say that it's a dream of mine, with some added things. Everything in this is very symbolic, because it _was_ a dream, and I honestly believe that dreams hold deeper meanings than what they show. If you want to know more about it, just ask me.

Disclaimer part here: don't own kuroshitsuji, don't own characters. I own my own head so the plot belongs to me. I checked a website called Dream Moods for the symbol meanings, and I must say that that place is real sweet.

Anyways, thank you very much if you have bothered to read this odd story. Reviews are always appreciated, and encouraged in case there's something you didn't understand!

~Endles


End file.
